Snowflakes and Scoundrels
by mrspencil
Summary: Responses to a 2015 December Challenge organised by Hades Lord of the Dead, with best wishes to all.
1. Hot Spiced Wine and Honey

_A/N: First response to Hades' December challenge._

 _Prompt from Knight Fury - Hot, spiced wine and honey._

 _With best wishes to all._

* * *

 **Hot, Spiced Wine and Honey**

* * *

Hot, spiced wine and honey...

He grinned; an evening at home with good friends, anticipated.

And opened the door to his small London practice,

A calm, pleasant day, he was certain, awaited.

~0~

Hot, spiced wine and honey...

He smiled; an evening at home with good friends, anticipated,

Then focused again on the patient before him,

(The first of the day ) and the symptoms narrated.

~0~

Hot, spiced wine and honey...

He paused; an evening at home with good friends, anticipated,

And glanced at the clock, it was no longer morning;

The queue in the hall had, by no means, abated...

~0~

Hot spiced wine and honey...

He sighed; an evening at home with good friends, anticipated.

Still more to be seen on this cold winter Tuesday;

Many folk needing care, random Fate had dictated.

~0~

Hot, spiced wine and honey...

He frowned; an evening at home with good friends, anticipated.

The cab rattled on through the dark streets of London,

As call after call left him tired and deflated.

~0~

Hot, spiced wine and honey...

He dismissed any thoughts of the evening, anticipated.

His wife long abed, friends long gone, after midnight;

His plans, as so often before, thus frustrated.

~0~

Hot spiced wine and honey...

A glass from his wife and his friends, who had anticipated

A late return home for the bone-weary doctor;

The season of good will, at last, celebrated.

~0~


	2. Christmas Post

_A/N: Second response to Hades' December Challenge_

 _Prompt from Riandra - Season's greetings from beyond the grave._

* * *

 **Christmas Post**

* * *

An envelope

Upon the floor,

Not there when he had

Closed the door,

Hand writing

He'd not seen before.

~0~

A foreign postmark,

Faint and blurred,

With cheap ink smearing

Every word.

Fib..?

Tib..?

Tibet?

No...quite absurd.

~0~

A flimsy parchment paper;

White.

Now...what should he do next?

Yes...right...

He held it up

Against the light.

~0~

A card in silhouette

Revealed,

A thin grey glue

Kept contents sealed,

What else might

Close inspection yield?

~0~

A faint aroma...

Herbed and smoked.

With far-flung,

Foreign lands invoked,

And curiosity

Provoked.

~0~

A paper knife,

A neat incision,

Quite worthy of

A trained physician.

The card eased out

With great precision.

~0~

Upon the front,

A winter scene;

Two peaks,

A valley in between.

A simple view,

Sketched sharp and clean.

~0~

Inside; blank space,

Both sides, quite clear.

No greetings full

Of Christmas cheer.

No toast to mark

The passing year.

~0~

The doctor sighed;

No clues to show

Who'd sent a card

Designed, just so;

With distant mountains

Laced with snow.

~0~

If only Holmes was there;

 _He'd_ know.

~0~


	3. Irregular Carols

_A/N: Third response to Hades' challenge._

 _Prompt from Aleine Skyfire - The Irregulars go carolling._

* * *

 **Irregular Carols**

* * *

Young Arthur, a small and determined Irregular,

Tugged on his mittens, and buttoned his coat;

His boots, though quite battered, still kept out the chill

And his scarf was wrapped carefully, hugging his throat.

Thus muffled and ready for wild winter weather

He hurried to join his young friends in the street;

This yearly traditional, vocal assignment,

A highlight for Arthur, a seasonal treat.

The snow settled gently on wool-covered shoulders,

The cobbles were slippery, starting to freeze;

They stumbled and tumbled, a cheerful assembly,

Well used to such inclement evenings as these.

~0~

Wiggins restored a slight semblance of order

And lined up his troops, nearly straight, two by two.

He yelled out addresses, and handed out lanterns,

And off they all went, knowing just what to do.

First stop, on the steps of an elegant building;

A ring on the doorbell, a quiet "one, two, three..."

"Oh Come all Ye Faithful", in loud joyful chorus,

Impressive, and almost harmoniously.

A pause while they checked if the householders heard them;

Then the offer to sing one more carol, their choice;

The hustle and haste of the city forgotten,

As a dozen small urchins sang out with one voice.

~0~

Caps doffed, season's greetings, a few coppers gathered,

Then on to the next with good heart and good cheer;

As "Jingle Bells" followed "Away in a Manger"

And shepherds saw angels and midnights were clear.

The snowfall lay deeper, and London fell silent,

As twelve weary carollers paid their last call,

And Arthur knocked loudly, announcing "Good Will"

To the best and most welcoming house of them all.

A trail of snow melting, wet garments discarded,

And stair carpet footprints showed where they would be;

Sat warm by a fire, with mince pies and hot chocolate;

At home in two hundred and twenty one B.

~0~


	4. That Wretched Christmas Wreath

_A/N: fourth response to Hades' December challenge._

 _Prompt from Madam'zelleGiry - That wretched Christmas wreath._

 _For medcat:-p_

* * *

 **That Wretched Christmas Wreath...**

* * *

He gazed at the polished brass door knob,

And the detective's "creation" beneath;

Past Christmases suffered in silence,

Just nodding, and gritting his teeth,

But now, it was time, he acknowledged,

He would have to get rid of that wreath.

~0~

He studied the framework, the poker

Hand-twisted, the frayed hangman's noose,

The bold grinning skull in the centre,

Tobacco leaves, dry, hanging loose.

The R.I.P. added, a hallowe'en whim;

Holmes' annual Yuletide abuse.

~0~

And yet...though the postman protested,

And visitors' views were quite clear,

And clients recoiled from the unfestive sight,

It graced the door, year after year.

Now dear Mrs Hudson had made the demand

That the whole tattered mess disappear.

~0~

A twinge of regret as he reached for the hook...

He stopped, shook his head, thought again;

Holmes made the whole thing, as a gift for his friend,

Though his views on "such nonsense" were plain.

Such rare touching gestures deserved some respect

And Holmes "wretched wreath" should remain.

~0~

Alternative strategy needed, it seemed,

A clever and deft compromise;

So off Watson went with a hasty penned list

And returned with his festive supplies;

Then mistletoe, holly, bright berries, gold bells

Were added with red ribbon ties.

~0~

All criminal elements neatly obscured;

A Holmesian wreath in disguise.

~0~


	5. Unknown

_A/N: fifth response to Hades' December challenge._

 _Prompt from Hades Lord of the Dead - Holmes returns from his hiatus to discover Watson has developed an interest in seances..._

* * *

 **Unknown**

* * *

Sealed boxes;

Unemptied, unsorted,

And not yet unpacked.

The Kensington practice

Now empty; sale sorted;

His friend's worldly goods

Neatly stacked.

~0~

Holmes studied the crates,

One unlabelled,

Looked closer and saw

An enticing small scrap,

Coloured paper;

And yearned to learn more.

~0~

He tugged very gently

Until he had eased

The sheet out.

A pamphlet?

He read every word;

Features furrowed

In doubt.

~0~

A seance!

The chance to attend

And connect with the dead.

A pursuit not

For science trained souls

But for others

Instead.

~0~

The thought of his Boswell

Attending such things

Was absurd;

He was certain his friend

Would ignore florid claims

And dismiss

Each extravagant word.

~0~

And yet...

He had circled the venue,

The date, underlined

Did he truly believe

One could summon

Ghosts back

To converse with

The ones left behind?

~0~

"Dear Holmes...

There are aspects

Of life

Which I'm certain you don't understand"

Dr Watson,

Unnoticed, returned,

Saw his face

And the tale telling note

In his hand.

~0~

"Of course I know

Charlatans,

Conmen,

Deceivers

And fraudsters

And tricksters

Abound

Wherever

Bereft,

Mourning,

Vulnerable,

Desperate,

Griefstricken

People are found."

~0~

"But hope

And the slightest

Of chances

To find what is lost

Can be worth

Any risk of deceit,

And be worth

Almost any high cost."

~0~

"I admit

I attended that day,

Cast aside disbelief;

In retrospect

Clear thought and reason

Were tempered

By grief."

~0~

"Yes, there are smokescreens

And mirrors

And deft sleight of hand,

That is plain;

But, Holmes,

There are elements

Science and logic

Can't even begin

To explain."

~0~

A chill, as a light

Summer breeze

Hurried in

Through the door;

A photograph

Caught by the wind

Fluttered down to the floor .

~0~

Face up, lay a picture

Of Watson's late wife

And late child,

And Mary looked down

At the scene,

At stunned faces,

And smiled.

~0~


	6. The Tree Catches Fire

_A/N: sixth response to Hades' December challenge._

 _Prompt from Wordwielder - The tree catches fire._

* * *

 **The Tree Catches Fire...**

* * *

Dear Holmes, you must apologise;

This current "situation"

Resulted from your none too wise

Attempts at decoration.

The branches on our Christmas tree

Had high inflammability,

Which everyone, but you, could see

From simple observation.

~0~

Dear Holmes, you did not think things through,

Regarding your creation;

Your artificial snow, it's true,

Surpassed anticipation.

Your crystals glittered festively,

In silver, sparkling majesty,

Until one flame's proximity

Caused instant conflagration.

~0~

Dear Holmes, I've never witnessed more

Intense deforestation;

Those marks on Mrs Hudson's floor,

And rug disintegration,

Have proved quite indisputably

How volatile your "snow" could be.

It flared and sparked impressively

To widespread consternation.

~0~

Dear Holmes, thank God, the fire brigade

Were at a nearby station

And doused the fires of Hell you'd made,

Thus halting devastation.

All curtains dry, eventually,

But soaking floors drip endlessly,

And carpets stain so easily...

I'll help with mediation.

~0~

Dear Holmes, at last you've made your peace,

No further confrontation;

My role as go-between can cease,

But, Holmes, you're on probation.

Your kind, forgiving landlady

Accepts your full apology,

And also the enormous fee

Required for restoration.

~0~

Dear Watson, I appreciate

Your skilled negotiation,

But, sadly, it is far too late

To alter expectation.

You know my methods thoroughly,

I'll always act impulsively,

You'll watch my back; such loyalty

Is cause for celebration..

~0~

...and, as for every future tree,

I can't resist temptation...

~0~


	7. Sleigh

_A/N: seventh response to Hades' December Challenge._

 _Prompt from KnightFury - Sleigh._

* * *

 **Sleigh**

* * *

A horse-drawn sleigh in Baker Street,

Where small excited urchins meet

And scramble up, excited cries

Of joy fill snow flaked winter skies;

A most Irregular Christmas treat.

~0~

Young Arthur's on the driver's seat;

There's room for two, (if one's his size ),

And grins as people wave and greet

The horse-drawn sleigh.

~0~

He spots the driver's small deceit,

Which makes this perfect day complete;

Though cap and scarf hide all but eyes

He's seen through Holmesian disguise,

And knows that nothing can compete

With horse-drawn sleigh.

~0~


	8. Less is More

_A/N: Eighth response to Hades' December Challenge._

 _Prompt from W. Y. Traveller - Holmes' attempts at decorating do not go according to plan..._

* * *

 **Less is More**

* * *

"The first step is to summarise

Attempts, so far, which proved unwise,

To innovate and improvise

And bring great warmth and cheer.

I burned the tree, and floor beneath,

And Watson has disguised my wreath,

It took four years of gritted teeth

To make his feelings clear."

~0~

"No reference to Hallowe'en,

No black, nor grey should grace the scene,

And lots and lots and lots of green

Would make dear Watson's day.

So off I go to find instead,

Things green and gold and sparkly red."

(The bats, though, sleeping overhead,

Aren't really in the way.)

~0~

"The doctor will be working late,

I'll stealthily redecorate

And when it's done I'll hide and wait

Till Watson's at the door.

So...baubles, candles, on my list

And holly, ribbons...nothing missed...

And gingerbread, I can't resist

And bells, and stars, and more..."

~0~

So Sherlock Holmes went forth until

He'd run up an impressive bill,

Determined he would now fulfil

His festive destiny.

He glued, festooned and hung on high

Such items which had caught his eye,

And did not miss the chance to buy

A flame proof Christmas tree.

~0~

He toiled through heaps of sparkly stuff,

Through glitter, cards and bits of fluff,

Intent on adding just enough

To charm his weary friend.

At last, he slowed his frantic pace,

Then stopped, and found a hiding place,

And smiled and thought of Watson's face;

His labours at an end.

~0~

Outside, the doctor's quiet footfall,

Then silence as he viewed the hall;

No movement and no noise at all,

Incapable of speech...

And then a whispered "Holmes...oh no!"

Knee-deep in shredded paper snow,

A life-sized reindeer, nose aglow,

Kings, shepherds; three of each.

~0~

A giant garland hid the stairs,

Enormous tartan bows in pairs

Were looped round hatstands, lamps and chairs,

Three bats slept overhead

He tried to hang his scarf, in vain,

No room for coat nor bag nor cane

And cursed the great detective's brain.

And longed for peace, and bed.

~0~

Shoes off, he reached the staircase, but,

He learned too late that Holmes had put

Small boughs of holly underfoot

Concealed by drifting "snow".

He winced, then soldiered on, intent

On making the complete ascent,

And finding out the full extent

Of Holmes' excessive show.

~0~

The sitting room, alas, as feared,

Had almost fully disappeared,

With bunting, baubles, bells adhered

To every inch of space.

Bright candles flared alarmingly

From every point (except the tree )

But then...mince pies and fresh brewed tea

Beside the fire place.

~0~

With trepidation, Holmes stepped in,

Equipped with wary sheepish grin

Aware of patience wearing thin

And decor overdone.

John Watson found his favourite chair,

Breathed deeply, smiled, and cleared the air;

"Well, Holmes, you've shown you truly care.

I see you've had some fun."

~0~

"Tea first, I've had a busy day,

And then I'll help you move away

Some parts of your unique display

Might I suggest a plan?

A local worthy charity

Can share in your festivity

A thoughtful gesture, Holmes, you'll see

Brings joy to fellow man.

~0~

And with those words, Holmes truly saw

That sometimes, strangely, less was more.

~0~


	9. Burning Bright

_A/N: ninth response to Hades' December Challenge._

 _Prompt from Aleine Skyfire - Moran gives Moriarty a tiger hide for Christmas, knowing that the Professor doesn't care for such things. Moriarty tries to be enthused to keep his friend happy, and Moran has to hold back his amusement._

* * *

 **Burning Bright**

* * *

Dimly lit and book-lined parlour, first floor flat in London mews;

Occupied by gaunt professor, hungry for the slightest news.

Three sharp knocks, a certain rhythm only known to just one man;

Door is opened, Moriarty greets his loyal friend, Moran.

Coat is shaken free from snowflakes, hat and scarf are stowed away,

Moriarty wonders briefly what the Colonel has to say,

Pours two drinks in cut glass tumblers, toasts the festive holiday.

~0~

Whisky held with care, the Colonel indicates a well wrapped gift

In the corner, by the hat stand; bulky, gaudy, hard to lift.

Moriarty sidles over, sees his name in languid scrawl;

Glances at Moran, then parcel; not expecting this at all.

Nodding thanks, he starts to tackle tape and string and festive bows;

Slow, meticulous unwrapping, paper folded as he goes,

Ribbon coiled and string unknotted, Colonel in expectant pose.

~0~

Final layer of crumpled tissue, smoothed quite flat to join the rest;

Moriarty stares, quite speechless, turns to face his smiling guest,

Blinks, then mutters "My dear fellow, how on earth do I begin?

Many thanks for such a...bright...and...quite ferocious tiger skin.

See how well the firelight mimics orange stripes on noble jaw,

Persian carpets seem so boring, sadly lacking tail and claw.

Truly, no one ever gave me anything like this before!"

~0~

"Look, his eyes appear to follow as I move around the room,

Quite impressive taxidermy...recent trophy, I presume?

Such a careful reconstruction, such impressive pointed teeth."

Feigned delight upon the surface, troubled mastermind beneath.

Could it be his friend had truly thought this "thing" would suit his taste?

Subtle silken hand-sewn hearth rug, by such vivid stripes replaced?

Should he tell Moran his feelings? Toughest choice he'd ever faced.

~0~

One more drink before he tells him, one more double whisky poured;

Clash of black and orange striping really cannot be ignored.

Moriarty clears his throat, then stops, observes the Colonel's eye,

Hint of thinly veiled amusement...almost passed this spider by.

"James", the rumbled Colonel chuckles, "hope you liked my little jest;

Seems the thought of jungle decor, does not leave you much impressed

When I leave, the rug leaves with me, doubt that you'll be too distressed."

~0~

Hands a box to Moriarty; "This will suit you more, I'll bet".

Lid is lifted; there inside, a small and finely carved chess set.

"From one hunter to another; the game is not quite over, yet."

~0~


	10. Raven, the Wandering Star-child

_A/N: Tenth response to Hades' December challenge, wishing a very happy birthday to the incomparable jack63kids. Many thanks for your friendship, ma'am:-)_

 _Prompt from silvermouse - Orphan_

* * *

 **Raven, the Wandering Star-child**

* * *

I'm a penniless, parentless orphan,

With no siblings nor cousins as well;

I've been used, once or twice

As a sad plot device,

With the background and childhood of Hell.

~0~

I am often entangled in peril,

The poor victim of foul, fickle Fates,

Till whole canons are thrown

By my actions alone,

And the mayhem my presence creates.

~0~

I am clearly no stranger to trauma;

Many woes in my past I could mention.

All my scars are concealed

And then slowly revealed,

Adding drama and heaps of attention.

~0~

Though I'm found in a huge range of stories,

Many features are often the same;

I am feisty and bright,

I can cook, heal and fight,

And possess an unfeasible name.

~0~

I am Raven, the Wandering Star-child,

And my eyes are impossibly green.

I'm endearing and cute,

And resourceful to boot,

And am destined to steal every scene.

~0~

In a quest, I outquest my companions,

In fierce battle, my skill's unsurpassed;

With no training at all,

I can win any brawl,

And solve puzzles incredibly fast.

~0~

Any faults which I have are quite quirky,

Never mean, irritating or bad.

They are part of my charm,

Never causing alarm,

And could never make anyone mad.

~0~

Oh, and often I hold a dark secret,

Which is slowly and gently unfurled;

Or great power of my own,

Or a talent, unknown,

With potential to shake up the world...

~0~

 _Curled up in warm blankets in lodgings,_

 _Young Arthur is dreaming, asleep;_

 _The small dog at his feet,_

 _Makes contentment complete,_

 _As the snow on the cobbles lies deep._

 _~0~_

 _As he wakes, he can hear the bright chatter_

 _Of his friends as they face a new day._

 _As his dog licks his face,_

 _He returns to this place,_

 _And adventurous dreams fade away._

 _~0~_

 _No, he does not possess magic powers,_

 _To unsettle the whole universe._

 _And, yes, it was tough,_

 _When he'd had to sleep rough;_

 _But he knew many friends who'd seen worse._

 _~0~_

 _He's not "Raven, the Wandering Star-child,_

 _Though he sounded exciting, it's true._

 _He truly would rather_

 _Be simply "young Arthur",_

 _And his eyes are not green, but grey-blue._

~0~


	11. Cut and Paste

_A_ / _N: eleventh response to Hades' December challenge._

 _Prompt from Riandra - Holmes/Watson is surprisingly ham-fisted at wrapping presents._

* * *

 **Cut and Paste**

* * *

"Watson!

Hand that paper here,

You've made a mess of it, I fear;

I've watched you fold and glue and tie;

Your surgeon's skills I don't deny,

But, here's the truth...no more, no less;

Your presentation lacks finesse."

~0~

"Let's see...

Two bars of scented soap,

A present picked with care, I hope,

Needs neat precision, class and style

Now watch...this might just take a while..."

(Much later...) "Watson! Gaze upon

This perfect origami swan."

~0~

"Now...

Lestrade...a "Just So Stories" book...

Such boring paper, Watson, look!

If I snip patterns here, and here...

A row of dancing men appear.

Much better, surely you agree?

I've added small red hats, you see."

~0~

"Next please...

Oh Watson...plain brown string?

Round Mycroft's gift?

Not quite the thing.

Now don't despair, you tried your best,

Please give it here...now I suggest

A twisted ribbon innovation,

Creating thus...a fine carnation!"

~0~

"Right...

Mrs Hudson, blue silk scarf,

A parcel you can't do by half,

Please fetch your smoothest fountain pen;

A little flourish added then...

Be patient while I neatly write

Down every verse of "Silent Night"."

~0~

"Now Watson,

One more set to go,

I have to fix them all, and so...

Irregular revision next...

You tried, dear friend, don't look so vexed.

Just make some sparkly snowflakes, please

We'll stick a dozen each on these..."

~0~

The doctor nodded,

Glued and snipped,

In silence, acquiesced, tight-lipped.

Around the room debris was scattered,

But truly, only one thing mattered;

His friend was lost without a case;

If festive fervour could replace

The ever tempting drug, cocaine,

He'd do this time and time again.

~0~


	12. Lost Property

_A/N: Twelfth response to Hades' December Challenge_

 _Prompt from cjnwriter - Five watches, four matches, three slippers, two hair bows, and a set of false teeth._

* * *

 **Lost property**

* * *

"So...

Five watches, four matches, three slippers, two hair bows, and...yes...here's a set of false teeth."

Holmes frowned at the Christmas tree, safely unlit, and the puppy, now hiding beneath.

~0~

"Perhaps you could take them all back to their owners, before I get threats and abuse,

But, as you can't say who these items belong to, I can see I shall have to deduce.

~0~

First watch... well this barely requires any brain work...it's Watson's. Or rather, his brother's,

And this one belongs to an elderly spinster with poodle; and as for the others...

~0~

The crack in the glass, and the pine scent reveal, it's the man who delivered our tree,

And this has the grocer's initials upon it, and this one...you stole it from me.

~0~

Four matches torn out of a match book, retaining from Simpson's the "n" and the "s";

You've picked Watson's pocket, you mischievous creature; quite clever, I have to confess.

~0~

And this is a slipper, from Persia, I'll warrant...tobacco-filled, hand-stitched...and mine,

And these are a pair you have chewed quite impressively...tartan, they're Watson's, size nine.

~0~

The hair bows are velvet and purple and gold, and were worn by our neighbour's great-niece;

I suppose I should purchase some more for young Rosie, or I won't get a moment of peace.

~0~

And as for that set of false teeth...you're in trouble, my reckless and daring young pup,

Unless we restore them from whence you removed them, before Mrs Hudson wakes up!"

~0~


	13. Notes from the Soul

_A/N: thirteenth response to Hades' December challenge._

 _Prompt from I'm Nova - Notes from the soul._

* * *

 **Notes from the Soul**

* * *

He's home;

A tight coiled spring,

A wind up toy,

Blue touch paper ready to light.

No food for days,

No fluids since yesterday,

And

Presumably no sleep all night.

~0~

This dreadful case is over;

Brilliantly concluded,

Tirelessly

And expertly

Detected.

Villains identified

And caught,

Evidence beyond doubt,

And the surviving

Innocents involved,

Protected.

~0~

I know,

Right here and now,

Holmes does not need

Intrusive chatter;

When all

Has stretched

To breaking point

I must step back

Or things might shatter.

~0~

A drink is waiting

At his side.

Morocco case?

I have the key.

I take the time

To gauge response

And make each move

Painstakingly.

~0~

This recent case

Was grim enough

To keep the

Best and

Wisest man

Awake;

He holds the glass

And takes a sip,

I note both hands

Now start to shake.

~0~

I'm well prepared,

I reach behind,

And give my friend

His violin.

I then sit back

And close my eyes,

Alert until

Soft sounds begin.

~0~

He plays a tune,

A mournful air,

A deeply haunting

Melody.

No words required,

I know full well,

Those soaring notes

Aren't meant for me.

~0~


	14. Slipping on Ice

_A/N: here is my fourteenth response to Hades' December challenge_

 _Prompt from I'm Nova - Slipping on ice._

 _Wishing an incredible and inspiring friend, Ennui Enigma, a very Happy Birthday, and a great year ahead. Onwards and upwards, lady:-)_

* * *

 **Slipping on Ice**

* * *

Here is an picturesque path through the park.

~0~

Here is a delicate sprinkling of snow;

Here, it is melting in winter sun's glow.

~0~

Here is the path in the fast fading light;

Here is the temperature dropping at night;

Here is the morning, the day cold and bright.

~0~

Here is a sparkling and seasonal scene;

Here's a deceptively gentle soft sheen,

Disguising hard ice where melt water had been;

So here is the danger of hazards unseen.

~0~

Here is a doctor, enjoying the air,

Here he is reaching the path, unaware

Of the treacherous, slippery layer lying there.

Here is a frantic late warning, "Take care!",

And here is the gentleman's cry of despair.

~0~

Here is a brief flailing move with his cane;

Here his feet scrabble for purchase, in vain;

Here a hard impact, his shoulder, in pain;

Here a swelled ankle, a probable sprain;

Here, muttered cursing, again and again,

As he tries to get up from the spot where he's lain.

~0~

Here, comes a flurried and hurried brigade,

Who shouted the warning and rush to his aid.

Here is the damage, now fully surveyed,

Ignoring the doctor's response, underplayed,

Here is their leader, the plans swiftly made,

Irregular teamwork is fully displayed,

As debts that they owe the physician are paid

~0~

Here's a swift runner, now Baker Street bound;

Here, by good fortune, a blanket is found

To warm up the figure on ice covered ground.

Here is the doctor, not making a sound,

His stoic, unflinching response is renowned;

But here's his relief that these lads were around.

~0~

Here are young urchins attempting to cheer

Their injured ice victim, too quiet now, they fear;

Concern for the fallen physician, sincere.

And here is their look-out, delight ringing clear,

As detective and landlady, flustered, appear.

~0~

Here scruffy street life and gentlefolk meet

As they help their unfortunate friend to his feet.

Here firm support to the hansom cab's seat;

Here is a rescue now almost complete.

~0~

Here, grateful thanks leave chests swelling with pride;

Here, an idea leads to grins broad and wide;

Here is a truly magnificent slide!

~0~

Here is the point where this winter's tale ends,

With joy and good will, and the comfort of friends.

~0~

And here is a picturesque path through the park.

~0~


	15. Insight

_A_ / _N: fifteenth response to Hades' December Challenge. Wishing all well over the seasonal break._

 _Prompt from silvermouse - Tea with Dickens & Mrs Hudson_

 _This is a bit somber, and did not go in the direction I originally intended._

 _Charles Dickens died years before "A Study in Scarlet"._

* * *

 **Insight**

* * *

Mrs Hudson, five years married;

Blue sprigged bonnet,

Neatly tied.

Leather boots, re-heeled, fresh-polished;

Gown re-patched

And worn with pride.

~0~

Husband called away on business;

Type and purpose

Not revealed.

Recently aware of debts, but

Head held high,

All doubts concealed.

~0~

Several days ahead of freedom;

Married bliss

A distant dream.

Plans for several lone excursions

Take a

Literary theme.

~0~

First, a ladies' journal meeting;

Conversation,

Books and tea;

Antidote to recent troubles.

Time

In pleasant company.

~0~

Joins her friends, a cosy tea room;

Smiles and puts

Her cares away.

Wonders which intrepid author

Might be speaking

Here today.

~0~

Sudden hush at guest's arrival;

Dapper gentleman

With beard.

Great delight (and expectations)

Mr Dickens

Has appeared!

~0~

Scenes of thieving gangs of urchins;

Strife between

The rich and poor;

Every chapter's end precisely

Where the reader

Longs for more.

~0~

Mrs Hudson listens, rapt, while

Words bring

Characters to life.

Old Bill Sikes and tragic Nancy...

Thinks of her own role

As wife.

~0~

Unexpected revelation;

Words now strike

A troubled chord.

Loyalty has limitations;

Danger signs

Can't be ignored.

~0~

Absently she rubs her arm;

A bruise inflicted

Three days past.

Time, it seems, to reconsider;

Luck (like Nancy's luck )

Can't last.

~0~

Ignorance is not an option;

Stories help her

Understand.

Talk is finished, Mrs Hudson

Grabs Charles Dickens

By the hand.

~0~

Thanks him for the sheer enjoyment

Penmanship like his

Can bring,

Also for the vital insight

Gained,

Which might change everything.

~0~

Off she heads to seek wise counsel;

Won't rest till

Her task's complete;

Well-loved maiden aunt; who lives at

Two two one B,

Baker Street...

~0~


	16. Photograph

_A/N: sixteenth response to Hades' December challenge._

 _Prompt from cjnwriter - Photograph_

 _This follows on from a response in a previous December challenge, when Watson finds an old photograph in their Baker Street flat..._

* * *

 **Photograph**

* * *

She straightened her back, her expression determined,

Stood slowly and walked to the closed parlour door;

Once opened, she leaned on the door frame to steady

Her limbs which now threatened to hold her no more.

She coughed, called her sons, bid them go find their father

And meet in the parlour, as soon as they could,

Well aware of the limited time now remaining,

And her fine white lace handkerchief, speckled with blood.

~0~

She returned to her chair by the fire, to recover

Till breaths were less laboured, and colour returned,

Then smiled as two sons threw themselves on the hearth rug ,

Their father behind them, bemused and concerned.

She gazed at her family, with open affection;

One son held a sandwich, the other, a book.

Her husband, such worry etched deep his fine features,

He caught her blue eyes with his questioning look.

~0~

"It's time," she spoke softly, then hustle and bustle

Drowned out any hope of coherent reply,

As a red-faced photographer, and his assistant

Appeared with a tripod and boxes piled high.

Excitement as boys met intriguing equipment;

A million questions on function and form,

On chemicals carried, dioptre and focus,

Exposure, wide angles; a fact finding storm.

~0~

Order resumed after lengthy discussions,

As parents and offspring were ushered in place;

The menfolk surrounding their frail wife and mother,

Affection and pride on her pale, weary face.

And then, the most difficult, final instruction

Two siblings entreated to stay very still;

One clearly a bundle of hard-suppressed motion;

The other, a dignified statue at will.

~0~

The Holmes' family portrait, one moment forever

Recorded on light exposed paper, that day;

Now faded and dusty, existence forgotten,

Long lost behind bookshelves, no careful display

Till flatmate/physician retrieved it and studied

Those present, reflecting on thirty years past,

Replaced it, still hidden, then later, on impulse,

Restored it to pride of position,

At last.

~0~


	17. The Smell of Pine

_A/N: seventeenth response to Hades' December challenge._

 _Prompt from Riandra - The smell of pine._

* * *

 **The Smell of Pine**

* * *

The smell of pine

Is detected...

Several theories discarded,

One selected.

Festive fripperies,

Were unneeded...

His view on this;

Blatantly unheeded.

Trail of pine needles

Provided confirmation;

Up seventeen steps

In extreme trepidation.

Paper lanterns

Festoon the landing;

Watson's mindset

Beyond his understanding.

Parlour door...

Wreath-decorated;

Ring of holly, bells and ribbon...

In his opinion, highly overrated.

Door opened,

Deep breath taken;

Fading hope that his

Deductions are mistaken.

He sighed;

No peace and calm, no quiet;

Carols playing,

A red, gold and green riot.

A Christmas tree

With lights resplendent,

And a physician, smiling,

Completely unrepentant.

Warmth, unexpectedly,

Is heart-ward stealing...

Reaction odd,

Yet quite appealing.

Watson's efforts

Are utterly vindicated;

First Christmas in Baker Street

Is thoroughly celebrated.

~0~


	18. Christmas Ghosts

_A/N: eighteenth response to Hades' December challenge_

 _Prompt from Riandra - The Ghost of Christmas-That-Should-Have-Been_

* * *

 **Christmas Ghosts**

* * *

Kitty Winter, watching snowflakes fall upon the prison yard;

Thinking back to days before Von Gruner ( lately acid-scarred).

Pictures childhood family Christmas, if she'd only known the truth,

Long before the hateful baron robbed her of all light and youth.

~0~

Elsie Cubitt, sleeves rolled up, attending to the parish poor,

Missing her dear husband, wishing all could be as once before.

Christmas in their Norfolk home, their first had proved to be their last;

Lost her soulmate, future children, robbed by demons from her past.

~0~

Mary Sutherland, mid housework, dreaming of her long lost beau,

Tending to her ageing parents, gazing at the falling snow;

Should be sharing gifts with Hosmer , as his loving, loyal wife;

Sure she'll never find another, stay a spinster, all her life.

~0~

Violet Westbury walks through London, careful step where ice touched stone;

Shattered plans for winter wedding, facing Christmas on her own.

Calls upon her late love's mother, long immobilised by grief;

Hopes and plans and aspirations, stolen by a heartless thief.

~0~

Henry Wood, a wretched cripple, limping home through slush-lined streets,

Pity, fear and stark revulsion clear on every face he meets.

But for jealous Colonel Barclay; Nancy should be at his side;

Both at peace, both hale and hearty, celebrating Christmastide.

~0~

Leon Sterndale, great explorer, heading back across the sea;

Losing his true love to long held lethal sibling rivalry.

Though confession eased his conscience, grief and loss is hard to bear;

Christmas post will bring no comfort, Brenda's card will not be there.

~0~

Doctor Watson writes, recording cases won and cases lost;

All those hopeful lives affected, those who paid the highest cost.

Empty chairs around his table; dearest wife, and closest friend;

Christmas ghosts might fade, but stories, written now, will never end.

~0~


	19. Princess in Distress

_A/N: Nineteenth response to Hades' December Challenge_

 _Prompt from silvermouse - Princess in Distress_

 _for mattsloved1 and Lucy36, with love:-p_

* * *

 **Princess in Distress**

* * *

I'm a beautiful fairy tale princess,

In a fairy tale princess's dress.

I have very long hair,

Which is golden and fair,

And, alas, I am in great distress.

~0~

I appear to be locked in a tower

On an island upon a great rock.

I must wait for a knight.

( I've been told I can't fight

Or I'll ruin my fairy tale frock)

~0~

I'm not Beauty, I'm not Cinderella,

Nor Aurora; I'm fully awake.

No dwarves are in sight,

So I can't be Snow White

Nor the Ice Queen; no ice nor snow flake.

~0~

I'm supposed to wait here till I'm rescued,

Not to try and escape on my own,

I've a very small guard,

So it would not be hard

To return to my castle and throne.

~0~

I must wait till "Prince Wiggins" can find me,

And put my small guard to the sword.

So, while I'm just sitting,

I'll get on with my knitting;

For this Princess is getting quite bored.

~0~

Oh...I see...there's a fierce fiery dragon

Roaming fiercely with fire in his throat.

It suits Gladstone quite well,

As a lizard from hell,

As he guards his dog bowl, I mean, moat.

~0~

And here comes my valiant army;

Prince Wiggins rides proudly ahead.

Perhaps I should wave,

So they know who to save

And don't rescue young Rosie instead.

~0~

Well...he's put up a fight has young Arthur,

And Rosie, my maid, has joined in.

Being Rosie of course

She has joined Arthur's force.

I'm betrayed! Let the battle begin!

~0~

Thank goodness I moved the best china,

And thank goodness my tenants are out

Mr Holmes would be shocked

That I'm fairytale frocked

And am perched on the table, no doubt.

~0~

Hah! My maid and small guard are defeated

And Prince Wiggins can claim his fair bride;

There'll be mince pies and tea

For the ceremony,

And a cake which I put to one side.

~0~

I'll descend from my cell/kitchen table,

While my Knights form an orderly queue.

My duplicitous maid

Checks the table is laid

Whilst Prince Wiggins takes charge of the brew.

~0~

I perceive my two clients returning,

To a cosy, and innocent scene

And it's time to confess

I am no mere Princess;

Mrs Hudson; the Baker Street queen.

~0~


End file.
